


Partners In Crime

by SpaceAsthmatic



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Banter, Crimes & Criminals, Family, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Funny, Light-Hearted, Lindon (Tolkien), Partners in Crime, Young Thranduil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:15:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28170768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceAsthmatic/pseuds/SpaceAsthmatic
Summary: Oropher comes to Thranduil and his friend Ferdan to ask them to do something for him, and after much bickering a deal is stuck between the three of them.
Relationships: Oropher & Original Male Character, Oropher & Thranduil (Tolkien)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 38





	Partners In Crime

**Hello everybody!! I wanted to write something more light-hearted!**

**I hope you enjoy it!**

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The bedroom door opened seconds after Ferdan called for him to enter even though it was not his bedroom, and Oropher slipped in more easily than the evening breeze could. Thranduil took one look at his father then narrowed his eyes with immediate suspicion, exchanging a look with Ferdan before saying, "Good evening, Atar." 

"Good evening," Oropher replied easily, wandering deeper into the room with no real purpose. Which was uncharacteristic of him to begin with, Oropher did everything with a purpose. He continued to pointedly ignore the way the two boys obviously closed and hid a journal they had both been looking at seconds before. 

His eyes roaming over the cluttered shelves full of various collections only Thranduil and Ferdan knew the meaning or significance of, hands tucked neatly behind his back. Fingers that often picked up to examine items without thinking, knowing better than that in this room. 

Still, Oropher didn’t break the silence, didn't say why he was there, even though he without a doubt sensed the two younger elves growing scrutiny. And thinning patience. 

Eventually, unable to stop himself Thranduil blurted out, "Why do you look like that?" 

"Like what?" Oropher asked, finally turning his full attention to the desk by the window that Thranduil sat behind and Ferdan sat atop. 

Both boys answered one right after the other, with Thranduil leading the way: 

"Suspicious." 

"Sweaty." 

“Sweaty and suspicious,” Ferdan summarized with conviction. 

Oropher simply adjusted the tilt of his head, expression otherwise remaining nearly impassive. Perhaps even calmly confused, "Me? Suspicious?” 

"And sweaty," Ferdan added. 

Thranduil quickly agreed, “Yes, that as well. Either that or you’re starting to secrete a substance similar to a snail.”

This time Oropher sighed and obviously resided the urge to roll his eyes, “I am not secre-” 

"Just altogether suspicious.” Ferdan interrupted, giving Oropher another quick once over, “The guards would arrest you on sight if you left this house." 

"And he would know," Thranduil added unhelpfully, "He's been arrested on sight countless times." 

"It's true, I have." 

“Yes, Ferdan. We know,” This time, did roll his eyes, “I think everybody who has ever met you knows that.” 

“Honestly,” Thranduil continued as if his father hadn’t spoken, “It’s a genuine wonder that he hasn’t been arrested on sight countless more times than he has been.” 

“Aye!” Ferdan protested, smacking Thranduil on the head with the journal he had just been hiding from Orpher, “You’re a fine one to talk! Prince ‘nobody can tell me what area of this world is off limits no matter their reasoning.”

“No wonder you did so well as a street bard,” Thranduil said while rolling his eyes in an eerily similar to the way Orpoher had just done, “because you’re the most dramatic person I’ve ever met.”

Gasping with offense Ferdan continued, “Excuse me! I am not being dramatic! I almost lost a hand, Thranduil, a hand!” 

Unphased Oropher resumed his examination of the shelves, arms still tucked behind his back causally. Either successfully tuning out their bickering or successfully pretending to. 

For emphasis, Ferdan waved his right hand back and forth in front of Thranduil’s face, “Do you know what I use this hand for? Hmm? Hmmm? I use it for everything!” 

“But did you lose it?” Thranduil countered, waving away the frantic hand with a dismissive gesture of his own before answering his own question sternly, “No! You didn’t!”

With just the faintest glow of amusement and affection but again without his full attention Oropher asked, “Are you two finished?” 

“That depends,” Said two accusing voices at once. 

Ferdan continued for the both of them, “Are you going to tell us why you look so sweaty and suspicious?” 

“Otherwise,” Thranduil added, “We were already in the middle of a different and relatively unrelated disagreement that I would like to go back to winning.” 

“I think you’ve confused talking louder with winning.”

Oropher spoke over them both before Thranuild could respond further, “I need you two to do something for me.” 

Both young elves gasped with what might have been genuine shock, and Orohper turned to face them once more. Suppressing a snort of laughter when Thranduil demanded in a scolding tone with an expression to match, “Atar, what did you do?” 

“And who did you do it too?” Ferdan asked, significantly more upbeat about the situation, “No judgment. Honestly, I might even be grateful depending who it was. Everybody here in Lindon is grating on my non-existence nerves.” 

“Do you think we could convince Galion to help us dig a really deep hole without telling him why he’s doing it?” Thranduil wondered aloud, the added drama to the words clearly marking it as rhetorical. 

Ferdan, the sworn enemy of rhetorical questions responded immediately, “I mean, there really is only one way to find out.” 

“Close the window please, Thranduil.” Oropher said, absently frowning at whatever was moving in the largest jar by the window. Findinghim himself mildly impressed when it frowned back. 

Thranduil did as he was told and closed the window tightly to keep any lingering ears from overhearing, and then whipped back, “I knew it. My Atar’s a criminal.” 

“Glad to know that crime runs in the family,” Ferdan added, still obviously delighted by the situation. 

Oropher asked again, “Are you two finished?” Inwardly contemplating how many times a day he found himself saying that. 

“Are you going to tell us what you did?” Ferdan shot back. 

“I will tell you why I am here if you two stop bickering long enough to let me speak.” 

“Atar, please.” Thranduild scoffed, “Ulmo himself could not get you to stop talking when he wanted, we certainly are not inhibiting you in any manner.” 

Choosing to ignore his son aside from a pointed glance, Oropher produced several scrolls from his sleeve, “I need you two to put these back for me.” 

“Put them back, where?” Thranduil asked. 

Oropher hesitated and Ferdan seized his opportunity to loudly whisper, “He’s secreting again.” 

“No,” Oropher countered, “That horrible looking thing over there in the jar is secreting.” 

“Enough!” Thranduil scolded again, this time in a startling good impressination of Melian, “Be nice to Galadriel!” 

“Galadriel?” Oropher found himself asking with a laugh. 

Hopping off of the desk Ferdan picked up the jar and brought it closer to Oropher, he was nowhere closer to figuring out what exactly ‘Galadriel’ was when Ferdan asked, “Can you not see the resemblance?” 

Choosing to ignore that particular question, Oropher answered Thranduil's instead, “Back into King Gil-Galad's private library.” 

“You almost made me drop Galadriel!” Ferdan said, hastily putting the jar back onto her spot on the shelf in the sunlight. Then he turned back to Oropher, “Did you say you stole those from Gil-Galad’s library?” 

“No, I did not.” Oropher replied sternly, “I said that's where they needed to go. I never said how they came into my possession in the first place.” 

“Don’t tell me that lie,” Ferdan said, “I invented that lie. I carefully molded it over years of dedication. That lie is probably the closest thing to a child that I am ever going to have ” 

“Why can’t you put them back?” Thranduil asked his father, getting up from the desk to try and snatch the papers from his fathers hands to examine them for himself. 

Oropher easily moved it away from Thranduil's grasp, and then Ferdan’s by holding it over his head and standing on his tiptoes, “Because I will be attending a dinner where both Gil-Galad and Elrond will be, and not anywhere near the library where both of them tend to haunt.” 

“Were you not the one that suggested this dinner?” Ferdan pointed out, making another grab for the papers by jumping at them, “Near two months ago?” 

Oropher easily moved them away once more, “Perhaps.” 

Ferdan jumped for them again, “So you’ve had these for two months?” 

“I didn’t say that,” Orpher replied, evading Ferdan’s hand for a third time, “I just said I might have been the one to suggest this dinner on this date.” 

“Are you trying to say that having us do this tonight ended up just being a happy coincidence?” Thranduil frowned, knowing better than to try and get the best of his father unless it was under the pretense of a surprise attack. “You’re allergic to coincinece’s, you would have a rash.” 

“Maybe that's why he secretes,” Ferdan supplied, “It's some new form of reaction we haven't noticed before.” 

Oropher used his free hand to grab both of Ferdan’s to put a stop to the theft attempts, “I am not saying anything, I am simply asking you to return them to their home.” 

“Tonight,” Thranduil clarified, “The night you planned to have dinner with both Gil-Gallad and Elrond for some mysterious reason.” 

“The reason is not mysterious,” Orpher continued to defend, “The reason is to try and improve the relations between our people.” 

“Right,” Ferdan agreed sarcastically while trying unsuccessfully to wrestle himself free from Orophers iron grip, “You’ll be trying to improve relations while we break in and replace stolen property.” 

“Exactly.” Oropher said matter of factly. 

Thranduil crossed his arms, “What makes you think that we can do it?” 

“Because no matter how sneaky you think you are, I know how many times you two managed to steal and return something of Thingol’s before we noticed it had been moved.” 

“How dare you accuse us of such treasonins crimes!” Ferdan cried out, finally getting his hands free, “If I had known you had come with such an attitude I would not have called for you to enter.” 

“Relax, father of lies,” Oropher began, “I am here with no more attitude than I usually exist with.” 

Thranduil said to Ferdan, “So it's worse than we thought.” 

“Will you do it or not?” Oropher asked without acknowledging his son's teasing aside from a sideways glance. 

“What's in it for us?” Ferdan asked, crossing his arms while continuing to stare at the papers held lightly over Orophers head still. 

Oropher looked at him with a straight face, “Free room and board, and I won’t tell Gil-Galad about that hole you two dug under his wall.” 

“Deal,” They both agreed immediately and Thranduil held his hand out for the papers. 

Finally Oropher lowered his arm, but was obviously ready for another assault, “These cannot be unsealed, it has been done in a special way that you will not be able to recreate.” 

Thranduil made a show of holding his hand for them again, “Alright, Alright.” 

Orpher placed one end in Thranduil’s outstretched hand but did not let it go, his other hand pointed sternly at Ferdans face close enough that the younger elf went cross eyed in order to follow it, “Do you understand?” 

“Alright fine.” Ferdan sighed. 

But Oropher kept his finger where it was, “If you disobey my order, I will be able to tell and it won't be whatever trouble that Thranduil gets you into next to take a limb. It will be me. Do you understand?” 

“If you take anything, just don’t make it a leg.” 

“I will take both of your legs,” Oropher threatened while finally releasing the rolls of paper. 

Ferdan pushed Orphers hand away from his face and the older elf let him, “Well that’s rude.” 

Orpher shrugged, “I’ve been called worse. I am leaving in one hour for dinner, I think it would be best if you two came with me.” 

“Alright,” Thranduil agreed with a very badly surprised grin. 

Finally giving in to two of them Orophers stern facade slipped away and he asked his son with a confused smile, “What is it?” 

“I can’t wait to tell Naneth that you’re a criminal,” He answered, smiling growing wider. 

“Thranduil, please.” Oropher snorted and turned for the door, “As if she didn’t already know that when she married me.” 

Just as smoothly as he had drifted into the room, Orpher drifted out. The door clinking closed quilty behind him while a mixture of laughter and cheers bled through the thick wood and out into the hallway outside. 

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**Thank you for reading!!! I would love to hear your thoughts!!!**

  
  
  
  



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